


Elements and Things

by cosmotronic



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Realisation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmotronic/pseuds/cosmotronic
Summary: Shepard drops her mask and things get complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Dirty, dirty porn. Also some wisps of fluff at the end. I make no apologies.
> 
> Comments and feedback always appreciated.

She had her target, Geth easy prey in the sights of her rifle and she paused her breath, ready to squeeze the trigger. She didn't see the second unit advancing on her flank but she felt the first shot bounce from her helmet. The force of the impact was staggering, wresting a grunt from her lips and rattling her brain like a marble in her skull. Her own shot went wildly nowhere as she was borne down by the momentum and pushed to sprawl in the dirt.

Above the ringing she heard a roar: pained and panicked, like an animal scenting blood. Shepard. Through the fog she could see a black and red statue towering above her, haloed by flashes of shotgun fire. She felt the heat of spent thermal clips as they bounced down around her. Then Shepard was gone, leaping over her, running, rolling, voice and weapon still screaming their fury as foes fell to her wrath.

Then, suddenly, silence and wide eyes searching for her gaze. Ashley saw raw, naked grief then sobbing relief then a startling fury swim in those eyes. She barely had time to process it before Shepard clamped her visor back down, literally and figuratively, and extended her arm to the prone marine. Ashley grabbed on, rocking to her feet, swaying into Shepard slightly, their helmets too close. Shepard stared at her for a long minute, hard mask assessing her balance, checking her for concussion. When she was apparently satisfied Ashley was unhurt she shoved her away slightly and turned her back.

Ashley heard Shepard tersely calling for a shuttle. She stared at her commander's somehow unscathed form, seething. She was already berating herself for failing to spot the additional threat, but mostly she was mad at _her_. How dare Shepard act so recklessly and irresponsibly. She could have been killed; she certainly risked the success of the mission by breaking formation and pelting blindly into enemy ranks like that. Ashley had taken a hit, true, but she was a big girl and she didn't need Shepard go all cavewoman on her. And then for Shepard to slam down that cold pretence of a professional façade without a word of explanation, it was insulting, a slap.

“Shepard...” she began as the shuttle descended into view and landed nearby.

“We'll discuss this later,” Shepard snapped, quiet and sharp, elbowing past her to climb the ramp.

The ride back to Normandy seemed as though it would never end. They sat, silent, and Ashley tried not to look across at Shepard, who was staring at her, into her, face oddly blank. Garrus clicked his mandibles and squeezed his tall frame into the front compartment alongside the pilot. Clearly he had noted their discomfort but decided to avoid the stifling atmosphere instead of remarking on it.

Once on board ship they stowed their weapons and stripped their armour with silent efficiency. Still Shepard watched her, unreadable, and Ashley chafed under the look. They showered, the steam and tension combining heavily, oppressively. It was nearly watch change and Ashley saw several crew members rushing to finish their ablutions, preferring to make themselves scarce rather than incur any collateral wrath from the furious marine or her stony-faced commander.

Shepard moved to leave, then stopped mid-motion, torn, like a mech stuck in a feedback loop. Her hair was wet and her clothes stuck to her damp body and she was beautiful, Ashley noticed with all the force of a shot to the head. Messy, fucked up and beautiful. Oh, _shit_.

The command was low, just a rumble, really, “My cabin, Williams.”

At least Shepard had the dignity to order her to her cabin before laying into her, Ashley thought as she rode the elevator. She predicted cool, professional chastisement or, at the most, terse irritability. A dressing down from a combat leader. Any other reaction would be dangerously close to complicating their relationship and they had said it wouldn’t get complicated. So there would be angry words, and Ashley was set to respond in kind, chain of command be damned. Shepard's extreme reaction was out of line, her impulsive behaviour dangerous. Her heroics and her audacity and her fucking bravery and protectiveness and oh, _shit_. Ashley swallowed the taste of the thought, sighed away the scent of that emotion and entered the cabin.

She hadn’t expected Shepard's loaded silence and sudden nearness as the door hissed shut behind her. Shepard stalked her, close enough to feel body heat radiating through their fatigues. The mask had dropped, been discarded sometime between Shepard’s gruff invite in the showers and this moment. Discordant emotions played a medley across her face and Ashley tried to make sense of her expression. Her eyes were too dark, her looks too shifting to read but the curl of her lip was feral, her body language possessive and Ashley felt her anger mixing deliciously with sudden lust. Shepard was an aggressive lover and usually took point in their encounters. Ashley was no blushing virgin before Shepard but, _God_ , if the woman didn't make her knees quake and fire burn in her belly. Ashley grinned, anticipated the dance they knew; at least it wasn’t complicated.

Shepard grabbed Ashley roughly, crushed their bodies together and kissed her hard. Lips and tongue assailed her, battling her own, never gentle. She gasped as teeth caught her lower lip and the suggestion of pain darkened her desire. Hands roamed her curves, stroking, groping, clutching handfuls of flesh and cloth. Fingers worried at the hem of her shirt, trying in vain to lift it between their too tight bodies, then moved down to fumble at her fly. Ashley couldn't wait. She impatiently pushed the lust-clumsy digits aside and tugged the button open herself. Shepard's fingers immediately disappeared inside, pressing and stroking her through rapidly dampening underwear. Ashley heard a tiny groan echo between their kisses; she wasn't sure which of them had made the sound.

She broke their embrace long enough to pull her shirt up and over her head, thankful she hadn't bothered putting a bra on after her shower, then pushed her pants down past her hips. Shepard's hand fell away and she stared unabashedly at Ashley's flushed and bared flesh. Ashley met her stormy eyes briefly, then bent to work the laces of her boots with a fervour born of want. Soon enough Ashley stood naked before her fully clothed and panting partner.

Shepard reached for her and Ashley pushed her back, hard enough to make Shepard stumble, and growled - actually _snarled_ \- before jumping at her lover. She grabbed the back of Shepard's neck and wrapped her legs around her waist, crawling up her body. Shepard's hands automatically gripped her behind, fingertips digging into the muscle, squeezing and bruising the flesh. Shepard was strong but Ashley was tall, heavy with muscle and relentless, claiming her mouth and pushing wet heat against her clothed hips. They soon toppled to the floor, landing heavily with Ashley on top.

Before Shepard's ardour could assert itself again Ashley grabbed her hands, pulling them up to lie either side of her head, forcing her arms to the deck and arching her chest into Ashley’s body. Shepard tested her hold, gauged her reaction by pushing against her ever so slightly. It wouldn't take much effort for Shepard to break free, Ashley knew, but it would take some. She tightened her grip and prepared for Shepard's attack. It never came. Instead, she felt the tension ebb, the body beneath her become pliant under her hands, ceding control to her.

Ashley lessened her grip, pleased to see Shepard's arms remain in position above her head. Still pinning Shepard with her weight, she gazed down at her smouldering lover, looking deep into eyes swirling with ire and arousal. There was something else there too, something Ashley didn't know how to respond to. Hunger. No. _Need_. Shepard needed her and oh, how she needed to feel Shepard right now. She rubbed her body along Shepard's lean form, catlike, breathing in her scent, almost purring as she nibbled Shepard's neck and tasted the sweat of her desire.

She twisted a handful of Shepard's shirt at the collar and yanked downwards, the material giving way with a tear, raking harsh over the sound of their breathing. She quickly stripped obstructing pants and boots, swatting aside her partner's attempts to help, before coming back to lean over Shepard's naked body, arms and legs framing her, looking down at her predatorily.

Shepard leaned up, seeking another consuming kiss. Ashley pulled away, slamming Shepard's shoulders back to the floor and earning a exclamation halfway between a gasp and a growl. She was having this round; Ashley was going to make Shepard work for her repentance. She slithered up her lover’s body to kneel over her head. Legs either side of Shepard’s face, she lowered herself onto burning lips.

Fuck, but Shepard was good at this. Instantly reacting to the sudden nearness her hands cupped Ashley's behind and drew her closer. The first touch of Shepard’s tongue at her core caused a series of shudders to pass through Ashley; body responding to the long, languorous lick of promise. Shepard started slowly, drawing her out, teasing her flesh. Sucking gently on her clit, nibbling at her folds. Ashley felt wetness trickling down her thighs and dripping onto Shepard's chin, smearing. Oh, _fuck_. She rocked her hips, shifting, charting the course of her climb into ecstasy. Trying to direct Shepard to where she needed her the most.

Ashley craved more, more contact, more pressure, a rougher stroke. She started to grind down against Shepard's lips, aiming for a rhythm but it was impossible, the sensations became too intense and her hips uncertain in their motions. She threw her head back and groaned a chaotic amalgam of names and gods and curses. She clamped her thighs down hard, tight and crushing, keeping her in place as the swirling, raging river tried to carry her away into ecstasy. Then the dam broke, suddenly, violently, letting anger and lust flow out of her in equal measure as she rode Shepard's face, spilling into her mouth.

Still sparking but spent and shaky, Ashley tensed to raise herself up. Shepard's strong hands gripped tighter, keeping her in place. She realised with a jolt how Shepard's pliancy beneath her, her surrender and submission had been a calculated appeasement, an affectionate manipulation. Shepard had allowed her a release valve, letting Ashley pour out her temper and take her pleasure. It was stupidly considerate and made her ache, sharp and unexpected.

Now it was Shepard's turn to work out her own pent-up, precariously coiled energy. Her mouth set to again, with increased resolve, tongue dragging through the slick and thrusting up into Ashley's core, flicking and circling around the inner muscle of her entrance. Then breaking away and moving to her clit, sucking the straining tip and presenting the tiniest hint of teeth, tugging. Then back inside, deep and greedy. The assault was determined and harsh and it was clear Ashley had not even a semblance of control as she became a slave to Shepard's lips, yielding under the lash of her tongue.

Ashley felt a tiny pressure as a fingertip circled her rear entrance, teasing rather than probing. It wasn't something they often explored but she pushed back into the touch, emboldened by her peaking desire. The twin fronts of Shepard's attack overwhelmed her quickly and she moaned loudly when she came, harder than the first time. The chasm opened before her, ready to take her and she threw herself down willingly. She bore down roughly, quaking as she smothered Shepard with her sex.

As Ashley felt the ebbs and swells wash away she became aware of a gentle, yet insistent pushing at the flesh of her behind. She instantly relaxed her thighs and allowed Shepard to ease both their bodies up and over so she was on top, sticky cheek resting on Ashley's stomach. Shepard was panting, sucking in air. She gasped and grinned against Ashley's skin and for a hanging moment Ashley feared she was hysterical, hypoxical. No, but she was satisfied in her lover's reactions, was inordinately pleased with herself and soon made clear to Ashley that she wasn't finished with her just yet.

Ashley almost sobbed as Shepard shifted down slightly, nudged her legs further apart and laid one long lick along the length of her centre. After two orgasms the sensation was torture and Ashley's body bucked, her clit screaming at her, begging her mind for mercy through the foggy haze of lust. Shepard relented, moving downwards to lap at her inner thighs, tasting every drop of her. Her rebellious body soon brought forth another burst of arousal and Ashley felt herself sinking again into that devilish touch.

Shepard brought her clever fingers into play this time, brushing her swollen folds and sinking three fingers easily into her dripping, eager opening. Shallow, twisting thrusts designed for the best contact with her clutching inner velvet, dragging through her sensitive channel but not filling her to her core as her body demanded. Maximum pleasure without driving her to peak too rapidly. Hell. Shepard knew how to play her body, had memorised the precise touch that would make her scream in the end. But she needed more. Ashley started to push her hips down to meet Shepard's hand, encouraging her deeper, desperate to escape the purgatory. Gasping moans and breathy pleas began to escape her, praising and cursing Shepard alternately. Shepard responded and increased her force, fucking her hard and full, never abandoning the twist of the wrist that drove Ashley wild with every stroke.

Her orgasm hit like a suckerpunch when Shepard added a fourth finger and she felt the knuckle of a thumb teasing at her stretched entrance. Shepard didn't force more than that, rocking her fingers just inside Ashley, keeping her at the peak of her pleasure, and encouraging her thrashing, writhing body until she sagged limply, sapped of all energy.

Shepard hardly paused, pulling free from her clenching core to drag a rough touch over her clit, rubbing lazy circles through the slick. Her hips jerked at the contact and she whimpered; it was too much. No, no, _fuck_. Shepard ignored her and pressed back in, curling two fingers expertly and kissing her thigh. _Yes_. It only took a few seconds for Ashley's whole body to tense again, to arch and twist off the floor. Her legs spasmed and her arms reached wildly, one fist beating a tattoo against the deck and the other grabbing ineffectually at her cruel, persistent lover. She screamed and swore, hoarse and shattered, and poured molten over Shepard's hand.

Collapsing back to the deck, Ashley grabbed Shepard's hand in a sweaty grip and pulled it away, shaking her head. _No more_. She fisted their fingers together on her thigh, twitching slightly from the exertion and tried to control her breathing. Tears leaked from her eyes and she felt utterly boneless, weightless, out of herself, like she was floating in zero gravity. She’d never felt so completely taken, so thoroughly fucked before. Hell, it had to be _her_. Her Shepard. Oh, _shit_.

After a while she managed to tilt her head down, looking down past her heaving chest to her lover. Shepard was smiling up at her, smug and sweaty, pressing little kisses to her abdomen. She was trembling a little, hips moving in tiny motions against nothing, thighs rubbing together but not providing the friction she craved. Ashley was exhausted but she encouraged her lover up, bringing their bodies into alignment. She twisted a hand into Shepard's damp hair and placed the other on the curve of her behind, pulling Shepard's lips to the crook of her neck and her centre to her thigh.

Shepard immediately started grinding, wet and open against the long muscle. Her mouth kissed Ashley's shoulder, then the upper swell of her breast, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a mark. Ashley raised herself up to a sitting position, thankful for thousands of crunches as her abs burned only a little. She lifted her hand to the base of Shepard's back, adjusting the angle slightly so Shepard could wrap her legs around her and rock against Ashley's hip.

The position was perfect. Shepard's lips were slightly above her own and she tilted her head up to capture them in a fevered kiss. Her other hand remained tangled in Shepard's hair, holding her close so she could plunder her mouth. Shepard’s fingers were tight on her shoulders, arms wrapped under hers, anchoring her. Ashley could feel her trembling through their kiss, moaning into her mouth.

Shepard ripped her lips away, gasping for air as she sought her climax. She was so sexy, wild and unbridled. After having her own pleasure played out with such careful skill, Ashley loved seeing strong, wilful Shepard come undone like this. Head tossed back, eyes screwed shut, little noises escaping as she lost herself. The feel of Shepard’s core sliding wetly over her skin was glorious and Ashley felt a lazy stirring in her own centre. She was spent, had no more to give but still her body reacted dully, primally to the sensation. She gripped Shepard’s rear tighter, with both hands now, helping her find the ideal pace and bring her to what promised to be a toe-curling release.

It didn't take long before Shepard's movements turned jerky and desperate in her grasp. Her cries grew louder and deeper, rasping over the smooth sound of slick on skin. Ashley pitched forward, claiming her lips again and sealing their air. She held on tightly as Shepard flew to pieces in her arms, then felt a convulsive groan in her mouth and hot, wet come painting her hip and leg.

Shepard was a wreck. Pleasure and the sudden release of tension wrenched Ashley’s name from her lips, drawing the sobbing syllables from her over and over to mumble against her lover’s mouth. It was more obviously affecting, more deeply emotional than usual and Ashley tried to avoid thinking on the connotations.

She kept her arms wrapped about Shepard as she shuddered through tiny, pulsing aftershocks, then gently lowered them both to the floor. The metal was hard and uncomfortable in the afterglow, wet with sweat and their fluids, so after a while Ashley nudged at her lover, nuzzling her neck with a hint. Shepard nodded a limp agreement as soon as she was able.

They peeled themselves off the cooling, sticky deck and made their way to Shepard's bed on shaky legs. Even after the intensity of their coupling, Shepard liked to cuddle after sex. It was quiet and sweet. Shepard seemed so small in her arms, so unlike the tough soldier she had to be for everyone else. Ashley had always suspected the comforting touch and pillow talk were just a courtesy, a way to make sure neither she nor her partner had actually shaken apart. So Ashley would always stay for a while, but never too long.

There was something a little different tonight. Shepard's embrace was a little too tight, her silence a little too long. They hadn't actually said anything meaningful since returning to Normandy and Ashley was aware Shepard had neatly distracted her from discussing the mission, albeit in the most pleasurable way possible.

Ashley hesitated, took a leap, “So are we going to talk about it, Shepard?”

A sigh, “Yes.”

“I wasn't hurt, you know. That Geth shot bounced right off my helmet. Shields took most of the impact.”

Another huff, “I know.”

“We had it covered back there, you didn’t need to go crazy on us,” Ashley’s earlier ire was bubbling back a little, “I mean, what were you thinking, running into a pack of Geth like that? No backup, no cover, just... just... do you have a death wish? Damn it, Shepard, that stunt could have got you killed!”

The silence went on for long minutes. Ashley feared she had gone too far. Just as she was about to give up, get up, slip away she heard Shepard, quiet and flat, “But you'd be okay.”

Oh, _Shepard_. Ashley struggled to keep her voice low and level, “I thought you said this wouldn't get in the way.”

“I know what I said.”

“Then what the hell, Shepard?”

A small note of frustration, then pained words stumbled out, “I saw you get hit, Ash. And I had to... I couldn't let you...”

There were sparkles of wet in Shepard's eyes and Ashley let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She knew what Shepard was trying to say and it complicated things, and they had said it wouldn't get complicated. Oh, _shit_. This was exactly why frat regs existed and why it was such an incredibly bad idea to screw around with your squad. Still, a warmth settled in her chest. She could lie to herself all she wanted; the truth was she had resigned herself to things getting complicated a long time ago. It was stupid and foolish and sentimental and all the things Ashley had promised herself she'd never get into but it was _right_. Shepard was just slower on the uptake.

Ashley's admission broke free, softly, “Now you know how I feel every time you get yourself into trouble, hero lady.”

“It hurts.”

“Yes, it does. That's love, Skipper.”

“Love.”

“Yes, you love me.”

“Oh. Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do apologise for the language. In my head Ashley swears like... well, like a trooper.


End file.
